Aniceta Snow's sacrifice
by NervousPurpleHairSpray
Summary: Being reaped for the games is painful, but being reaped as a sacrifice to placate the districts means more pain within the arena than any other tribute. Aniceta was defined as a political pawn to completely destroy the Captiols hope of ever regaining power again. She knows how dangerous the arena might be but Aniceta doesn't know how much she'll have to give of herself for survival
1. Chapter 1

I want to write more about the Arena at some point, and what the Capitol citizens work as now that they aren't just the centre of the world, and I'd love the chance. If people don't review then I delete the fanfiction, I'm just needy like that – promise me to review? I hope you liked it, and if you didn't tell me why not! Next update (crossed fingers) will be Aniceta's training and reaping, and an idea about what happened to the Capitol citizens. So: Hope you liked it, Please, Please Review and May the Odds.

"Aniceta" Mother bursts into my room and I stand up in greeting. All the guards fled my room about two hours ago and I sat amongst my toys waiting for either death or victory. Despite the hours of still coldness my heart warms just at the sight of her looking normal, as if today was normal. "Aniceta." She runs towards me and grabs my wrist. I try to struggle but eventually I let her lead me, past my window and the crowds of rebels roaring for our blood. My blood.

Mother opens my wardrobe whilst I watch, entirely bemused, until she reaches past my dresses and yanks out a panel. She opens it until it can fit her through, then she turns reaching her arms out to me. I don't need to hesitate so I jump through and she holds me whilst we run through the tunnels together.

"Where are we going?" I struggle to speak between pants, her legs are so much longer than mine.

"Somewhere…Somewhere safe. Somewhere where you and I can be together."

My face breaks into a smile and I don't hesitate to follow her. Further – and further away from the crowds, until I can barely hear their roaring. She hesitates and a fork turning, but shouts from one end lead her running, like a scared animal, further and further away from the palace. Safe – and together! I can barely believe it. We run into the sewer system and Mother's dark blue gown is stained with water, I can't bear to imagine what's sliding up my dress, and soaking my shoes. Further…

Then we see them. A group of ten guards in front of us. We skid to a stop in the murky water whilst mother breathes deeply looking at them both, like a tribute who has just run into the careers pack.

Finally one moves. He stretches his arm out towards me, and Mother flinches back, but he keeps reaching: "Aniceta Snow?". I stare at floating faeces in the water, floating until it latches itself onto my dress. If I can't see them, then they can't see me – if I can't see them then they can't see me – If I can't…

Mother's voice quakes with emotion: "May – May I have one moment with her? Just…to say goodbye". One guard moves to stop her, but another's face weakens and he nods briefly.

She leans down next to me, ignoring the murky water and just focuses on my face: "Aniceta…I love you. I love you more than all of it and I wish you had been enough for me –"

"Wrap it up" the women spits into the sewers: "Capitol citizens."

I flinch at his voice, the anger he puts to me and Mother…I turn to her and ask: "Mother?"

"I'm so sorry." She turns to the guards again: "Can I hug her?"

Grudgingly one nods and she puts her arms around my neck and whispers in my ear: "I am so sorry – there is no other way – no other way –" She reaches into her dress and grabs a deadly looking dagger and lunges at my throat and I scream, I fall to the ground in terror, and then the water is stained with blood.

They have shot my mother. I turn to the side and throw up, as her body falls onto mine, and her blood stains my skin, my hair an my clothing. I heave again until the guard turns his gun on me, I lunge to stop him and to tear his eyes out but he shoots before I come even close to him.

Then I wake up screaming, yet again. They used a tranquiliser dart, so that now I wake up, every day in my new room screaming, remembering the death of my mother. I turn to the side, like in my dream, and throw up again and again and the stench hits my nose so I retch again; until I stagger my way to the shower to wash my mother's blood of my skin, as I have every night for five years.


	2. Chapter 2

**Thank you so much for the review "**xox-Samismiliness-xox" **I was going to PM you but decided this was more personal – and I'm so grateful because I wanted to write more but promised I wouldn't pour hours into something no-one cared about! So thank you I hope the new chapter is good – nothing of the arena yet, sorry, but I just wanted to expand more onto what the capitol works as now, and I hope it's all okay! Thank you – and to anyone reading this tell me what you thought… **

I flinch when opening my wardrobe to find my work outfit, as always my attention is drawn to the sickly pink, blood-stained reminder of a dress the Districts gave back to me. They check everything that goes in and out of my room and so there's no way for me to forget that night. I wince one more time and pick block 12's uniform.

As we all work in distributing and sorting what's arrived from the Districts we are all allocated a particular uniform associated with the Districts. For the irony 13 gave me District 12, so that every time I get dressed I remember Katniss and Peeta and their rebellion. The entire Capitol is based around these as we have twelve tower blocks, with the shinning symbol of each District on it. Everyone lives, sleeps and works in this building and for five years I have never met someone from another block except on the reaping's.

I press the button to travel down into the basement to continue my work placement, so we can weigh the coal – every District has a quota needed – then re-distribute the coal equally to every district according to the number of citizens - District 11 has twice than that of the other Districts; except of course for Thirteen who demand more coal. I often wonder if any other District knows this, but there's nothing we can do to say or prevent it, just as we can't tell them that District 13 gives no raw materials for the other districts. Every District thinks the citizens from 13 give them extra seafood, extra fuel, extra materials or luxury items that we tax from the other districts. We're just the hands though, we'll be shot down if we even try to speak out against this.

"Hey there."

"Snow." My neighbour barely hides his contempt in that one word. Citizens from here either whisper apologies and sympathies to me, or despise me for leading them into a life of servitude. So I watch the lift jitter down thirty floors whilst my companion glares at me.

The doors open and I spring out, partly to avoid his stare, and partly because I have to see my friend Cheyna today, because of the rumours flying around about her. So I squeeze past my neighbours, flinching reflexively past those who haven't been able to maintain the style of their mutations.

The worst - Iolanthe whose name means violet so she had her entire skin died violet, her irises modified and her hands, to mimic rose petals attached to her sides, and her hair violet to copy the actual bud. Her skin has died out to a sickly light purple, the effect of her tears upon her eyes makes them white, and she waddles like a penguin and bends her entire body to lift something up.

To stay and help her is a luxury I cannot afford, and I must find Cheyna! She works in measuring what comes from District 12 and making sure her particular fifty workers are not below quota. Even though I don't know how they punish those below quota in the districts, 13 is never forgiving. Finally I see her! I slip into line next to her and mutter under my breath.

"I heard something about you yesterday."

She turns to me but masks it quickly and measures another person's coal offering for 13: "Nothing bad I hope?"

"They said you're the worker being promoted this year"

She blushes: "I'm not supposed to tell anyone."

"You can trust me! Are you being promoted? Which district are you going to work in? Imagine living in one of the actual districts…"

"Guess which district?"

"Twelve?"

"Right on"

"What about the bombs though?" I know that twelve somehow fill their coal quotas, but everyone in the Capitol watched the planes being sent out.

"We're not supposed to know" She turns anxiously to me "They told me – don't tell anyone else in district zero" The ultimate insult – district zero. We're number nothing, entirely worthless because we produce nothing. No district is supposed to be the Capitol now, because they are "all equal" but in my opinion 13 get more privileges than we ever did.

"I promise not to tell"

She checks behind her for cameras but shakes her head, it's safe for her to tell me because chances are I'll be dead by the end of this year. "They demanded 500 strong workers from every district – but thirteen. They all re-built district 12 and live there now – with the escapees from 12."

Surprisingly simple – surely? "Why is that some big secret?"

She glances at me to gauge my reaction "Their families were told they were dead, and their memories were wiped."

My hands clasp the rail in front of me and I repeat to myself that there is nothing I can do, my own life is in danger enough as it is…I try to distract myself "Won't it be weird talking to all of these people knowing their memories have been wiped?"

"It'll be worth it though."

I have to say, it will. Cheyna will work as a shopkeeper, selling anything district 12 wants – but what it means is she won't be in the reaping balls any more, she'll have a proper home and enough food. She will actually be taught lessons, instead of staying in gruelling eight hour shifts daily. But I suppose I shouldn't mock the shifts, they're what got her in this situation in the first place, the best worker in each sub-district is promoted to live in one of the districts. I hug her – because she deserves this! Aged sixteen – and the best worker here. I imagine her growing up in the districts, meeting someone, raising a safe healthy family and close down my jealousy and sadness.

Of course I'll never see – or hear from her again. But I have no right to be sad, her parents won't see her again either. She'll also never see her twelve year old brother again – unless he's reaped or somehow promoted to the same district. I hug her because it might just be the last time.

The first reason I couldn't be promoted is obvious – I am the presidents granddaughter and must be kept to die well in the arena. The other reason is because I dash out of the basement and train as soon as my eight working hours are over, because I only have four hours left to train then. Every single day is work then training then sleeping. Sometimes I wonder if I'm human or a machine.

I train by myself five days out of seven – the other two days two people, out of loyalty to my grandfather spar with me. On my own I do press ups and sit ups until I'm crying, I run until I reach the point beyond pain; and I read up, and watch previous hunger games to work out the tricks – and some nature skills – I don't want to be Marissa from 5 who ate the nightlock, if she hadn't would my fate be different? Maybe.

But today is a training day and Ioulo is my trainer for today – an ex game-maker who they needed to help work out how skilled each tribute was with their weapons. I've studied with him using a staff, knives, swords – so many different swords, basic combat and even darts with him. He reasons that if I show good proficiency with one weapon in my game-maker session they'll make sure I don't have that weapon. Better then to get a good score – and save my real talent until last. I still remember when he tried to teach me archery –

I visually flinch from the bow and back up, looking for a weapon to defend myself with. I try to make my voice sound strong but it still quakes: "Ioulo-please Ioulo get it away from me!"

I swipe at him with a hanger –what can I actually use in here? He shakes his head at me: "Aniceta, Aniceta you will have to master this"

"NO!" My voice shrieks in terror and I start to scream at him – horrible words, my hate for him, and that I would never – ever be like Katniss Everdeen. I won that argument.

Today though we do work with staffs, and I easily deflect the knifes he throws at me – but one impales itself into the wood and he shakes his head. Again and again with different weapons, because this is one of my worse weapons and he wants me to master everything. Finally he packs up.

"Reaping tomorrow huh?"

I nod, my hands quaking

"Do you reckon we'll get another year to train?"

"Probably not"

He laughs at me. Ioulo can laugh because he is not the one going to die. "That's what we said last year. And the year before." He helps himself out and then I run to him.

"If I am…I want to say thank you." I never noticed it before but Ioulo is getting old, I can see his hair slowly thinning. No help for that now. I suddenly throw my arms around him and realise I've never hugged him before, not an actual hug… If I'm reaped tomorrow I'll miss him. Still Ioulo and Cheyna can remember me on the screen – with an axe or something sticking out of my head.

He smiles at me and walks slowly down the corridor to reach the lift, and I try to prepare myself for the reaping.


	3. Chapter 3

**Hiya everyone :D I hope this is enough for everyone, but remember to tell me if I do something right or wrong – I wasn't entirely sure about this chapter because I feel I'm dragging the time before the arena so I understand if you're annoyed! Thanks for reading the writing and my chapter summary – and I do not own the hunger games trilogy. As in I don't own the rights. I actually have the books…..Anyway READ and REVIEW!**

I couldn't sleep last night so I trained for eight hours straight until getting changed into our uniform. The Districts used to wear their best outfits to impress the Capitol – we wear our uniform to show something. Probably slavery or the indistinguishable natures of the citizens of district zero. But who cares?

Our reaping is held by an ambassador of district twelve, and after what Cheyna told me I study him to work out if he was wiped – or one of the previous miners. But no time to think as Yahweh draws a boy's name from the reaping bowl, they brought them both from district twelve so they can enjoy the reversal of power. And then an eighteen year old is drawn from the crowd, Koen's reaping slip is zoomed into on the screen and Koen walks up to the stage, he closes his eyes to compose himself then suddenly a scream comes from the crowd.

A blue women, looking like her hair had been shocked by far too many volts screams again and lurches forward. The ropes separating each group stop her until she pushes under them and runs forward to reach her child as she sobs his name. I wait for her to gather him up in her arms but then Yahweh reaches into the fold of his cloak and draws out a tiny remote and presses it once. An electric field around the stage is activated and the women runs into it. Her blue, hedgehog spiked hair doesn't even change after the effect of the shock but she shakes on the ground, pushes herself to her son one more time but then freezes on the ground. No-one dares move to see if she is breathing and Koen still stands on the stage breathing steadily. I bet the districts had a good laugh at that.

Yahweh tries to compose himself also and walks slowly towards the reaping bowl for the girls, and I realise that he hasn't said anything yet today. The screen showed Koen's name and he didn't even speak to Koen when he was reaped. The screen zooms into whoever's name he has picked, so my entire sub-district don't dare blink or look away from the screen. His hand delves into the girls reaping bowl and draws out a name, and as the camera zooms in I see: "Aniceta Snow", the audience of my sub-district stiffen slightly and half smile at knowledge that I will suffer.

I stand on the stage and find Ioulo in the group of adults safe from the reaping bowl. He nods once at me and that fills me with courage. Then Yahweh speaks and his voice silences any whispers

"Aniceta…Snow" as always the emphasis is on my last name

I hold my head high and meet his eyes: "Call me Aniceta"

He bows his head in deference to my wishes but can't draw himself away from asking one more question – "How do you feel to be reaped?"

"I wish I could say it was a surprise". And that is as far I will rebel against the Districts, just enough to remind them that they're getting vengeance in my death. The audience don't dare move as Yahweh puts a hand on both of our backs and walks us away. I know what happens now – in the last five reapings those drawn walked to the centre of district zero – to where the arena is. Placed strategically so that we can never ever forget it takes us about five hours to walk to the arena where we face our death…They've co-ordinated it so that half the districts on either side walk to one point then the districts walk there in complete silence with each other. The other half do the same thing on the other side of the arena.

The slow walk is agony because we know all of the Districts are watching us walk to our death. Every single step you take is a step closer to death and further away from home, I see tears glistening on Koen's cheeks as he walks away from his mother. I can't help but to compare her instinct to shield her son from harm to my mother's instinct to kill her daughter before others can –but I hate myself for it because my situation was different. My situations always are different.

The game-makers will be the biggest danger, but out of the tributes, those from district thirteen's sorting area will be in the most dangerous. Because they barely sort anything, they have free time which they pour into training, I'm certain district thirteen encourages it so they can show their superiority – as if nuclear power wasn't enough. Ironically nothing has changed to the sub-districts from One, Two and Four, as their districts are undemanding because they weren't abused or left to starve like district twelve. There are the better fed, even sometimes have time to train.

The first thing the tributes did after getting reaped was the train journey and the chariot procession. We journey on foot but camera's fly overhead seeing the tributes strong enough to never break stride for the five hour walk, and focusing on the tearful faces of those leaving their families. A little boy, aged about twelve can't control himself, his ambassador tries to cheer him up, placing a hand on his shoulder but the little boy shakes it off and I think I see a tear in his escort's eyes also. Sub-district nine – grain. He doesn't resist the support of his partner from nine, who smiles briefly at him, a sixteen year old girl walking to her death comforting others.

I can't bear to watch any more. I focus in my mind how to throw, jump, dodge, dive and what I'll do in the arena:

"You don't know what the arena will be like! It's impossible to imagine but the districts aren't original enough to replace the Cornucopia."

"So I run away from it"

"Aniceta! Aniceta that is what they expect you to do. You run toward the Cornucopia"

I lean forward trying to work out what he knows that I don't: "Everyone in the arena will want to kill me – I – am – Snow's – Granddaughter!"

"Exactly" I still frown at him until he explains again "You're going to die in the arena anyway –"

I stand up and prepare myself for a dramatic exit. You don't just tell someone they're going to die.

"So you're the best ally to have. And when they're not looking you show your fight!"

I sit down again. You can't dramatically exit from your own flat anyway. "I didn't figure that one out myself. What says they will?"

"You tell them" He thinks I'm an idiot – clear in his tone "You still get training. In fact because you're innocent little Capitol citizens you get a full week of training!"

"I know. I watched the girl and boy from this District die last year"

I try to ransack my brain for anything else Ioulo told me, and even though I know I should be scanning the other tributes working out who is my enemy; I can't bear to see the terrified faces of these tributes. When I see districts one, two, four and thirteen I will look at them. At the moment I'm just with districts twelve – of course, eleven, ten, nine, eight and seven. The girl from seven looks intimidating and full of muscle but as she smiles at the boy from her district I realise she cares for him. I couldn't guess how much until she held out her strong hand to him and he took it, luckily he is taller and bigger than her. They may not be the prettiest couple in the world but they do love each other. I can't analyse any more, I just can't.


	4. Chapter 4

Yahweh studiously avoids eye contact with me and fixates his eyes on Koen. Somehow I couldn't bring myself to asses Koen, despite that as my district partner he'll be going into the arena with me. Still though, I push away my sentiment and watch him. As he's seventeen his parents must've chosen against modifying his face when he was twelve, meaning he'll get more sponsors. Children with pink hair and unnatural eyes are targeted and, like Koen's mother, not considered people with true emotions. Then again his face is flawless so perhaps they went for subtler modification, his dark hair contrasts unnaturally well. But that doesn't matter. He's taller than me but he lacks my lean muscle, and whenever I saw him working he had a ready smile – which obviously evaporated when his mother…

That assessment took all of ten minutes yet Koen and Yahweh are still talking his strategy. I get up. No one notices, I pace up and down the room, no one notices, I slam my lunch down on the table, suddenly everyone notices. Yahweh flinches and turns up to face me: "Everything…Alright?"

I shake my head, consumed with anger: "I'm going into that arena too! Why don't you understand" – my voice was not meant to break just then – "That I am important! Or do you just have me written off as bloodbath tribute already? Because I –"

Koen stands up and makes unflinching eye contact for a few seconds and I stop talking to try to work out who he thinks he is, and then he sits down and finally speaks – "How can you be so selfish?" My mouth is agape in anger and a fair bit of confusion. "You" I stare at his finger pointing at me "Have got me into this – this competition to fight to the death and it's still all about you!". I reach out and grab the finger still pointing it's accusations at me and twist it in its socket, I see the pain on his face but he doesn't look away from me. Yahweh stands up abruptly, his chair falling onto the floor and tries to separate us before I move on to break his wrist. Just before he pushes me apart I yell at Koen: "That was my _grandfather_! And I am going to die for what he –"

The doors slide open, and my voice cracks again: "For what my Grandfather did when I was too young to think – at least you won't be" Yahweh pushes Koen and I to other sides of the room but when I lunge back at him another person is grasping my shoulders and I find myself face to face with Peeta Mellark. I suppose he wasn't to know that I'd fantasised about killing him every day since he killed my mother, but that wouldn't have helped him understand what I did anyway; as I ran straight through the apartments left over from the last Hunger Games that no-one thought to destroy until District Thirteen returned to their principle of irony, into the room which Katniss Everdeen slept in. I hate them both. I storm out then, and curl myself into the corner of the lift to cry.

It shakes up and down and I try to remember my training but the games weren't meant to be like this. Finally I open my eyes to see four pairs of shoes surrounding me; I look down, fearing to see Peeta, Koen and Yahweh again until someone grabs me by the shoulders, pinning me against the side of the lift and I stare into the calculating eyes of the District Four female.

I imagine Ioulo is with me and what he would say. I let Ioulo's voice fill my mind "Who are they?"

I breathe and try to answer him as calmly as I can. "The girl from District Four. The boy – and the girl from District Two. The boy from District Thirteen."

My imagination draws a smile from Ioulo. "Good. Now what weapons are near you."

"Nothing! Nothing at all to help me fight"

He shakes his head in disappointment. "You're forgetting the best weapon in the Games. Your mind"

At the second bash of my shoulders against the wall my eyes snap open again, darting from all four of my enemies. The boy from two swaggers forward "Well, look what we've found here" Can he see the terror in my eyes? His district partner stands forward to join him and places her hand lightly on his shoulder before joining in "A district _twelve_ tribute! How did it feel Aniceta? How did you feel to lose it all to the Districts?"

District Four lets go of my shoulders and I relax, imagining a potential alliance – and then she slaps me across the face, hard. The force knocks me to the ground and I roll to the right to avoid her kick: "Oh wait! We know how it feels, because we have lost it all. We trusted you and now – now"

The boy from Thirteen leans against the wall furthest from me and is just examining my torture until District four mentions this "Calm down Yimi. That doesn't matter"

She turns to face him – One less person watching my every move and yells straight into his face –"How can you say that? How – how dare you even try to find joy in this-"

"No fighting until the games have started" How can he stay so calm? The tributes from District Two turn to watch the drama and no one notices as I force myself to stand. Suddenly District Two's tributes jump in, and I remember that they're actually twins. They try to push the two apart as I stand, ready to run, the lift rises up to wherever someone has pushed the button and I watch it rise until the doors open and I rush past them. The twins from District two try to stop me but I aim at the girls feet, sweeping her legs under her, and she falls into her twin and I rush out of the lift, glancing back to see the pile of disgruntled Career tributes and I laugh insanely – and run straight into Peeta Mellark, again.

**Short update today, just found myself leaving it later and later and just had to publish something. I've tried to compensate for the lack of arena-ness with some violence, hope it works! Also tried to make her a bit less likable, just don't want her to be 'perfect'. Next chapter I'll explain exactly what Peeta is doing there, I just realised if I didn't write and finish this I wouldn't get it out there and all you lovely people would hate me And as always, reviews make me alarmingly psychopathically happy.**


	5. Chapter 5

I stumble back away from the face who's haunted my nightmares. He's…different from the propos District thirteen churned out, and from his games, the lines around his face show the difference between the tribute originally reaped. The problem is I swore I would kill him on sight but, just like the tributes from District seven, it all seems different now I'm actually facing them.

Finally I compose myself enough to sit at the table with Koen, Yahweh and Peeta, trying to silence my instinct to run or fight. Yahweh speaks first.

"Peeta, I think you'd better explain what you're doing here."

He attempts a smile. "Well, you see, District twelve has had no victors in the last four games" Too right. The first two victors were from thirteen, then a boy from four won, and a girl from one. "So you have no one to help you who's actually been in that arena and I'm the next best thing. Is that alright with everyone?"

Koen just nods and I still stare at one of my enemies. Finally I find it in myself to speak "So – Katniss and Haymitch?"

"The latter is drunk. Old habits die hard"

"And the former?"

He stands up, shaking his head in impatience at my questions "The important thing is to work out your strategy, but after the…events of this morning we barely have time to begin to discuss"

"What he means is that your training starts in an hour"

Despair washes over me again, and I dig my nails into my palms in anger about how everything is happening. I have completely lost control. Koen and I find ourselves overloaded with advice as Peeta and Yahweh try to teach us everything and disagree if we should hide or show of our talents. Finally Peeta tells Koen try to make friends with anyone, and tells me to try my best, but learn solitary talents so I can survive alone in the arena. I just love this vote of confidence. Then we're pushed down the lift and I walk into my first day of seven.

The couple from seven are learning to make a fire, but struggling, and in compliance with Peeta's advice I go over to try to make friends.

"Hi."

They draw closer to each other and look at me

"I think it should go more like this – do you want to see?" The boy keeps staring at me whilst I reach over and grab the flint from him and demonstrate. I hand it back to him. I'm thinking he must be thick before he decides to speak "I'm Inun. This is Mino"

"Aniceta" I pause and then decide to shake his hand. "You're from District…Seven?"

The boy nods and the girl speaks: "Yes. Well, sub-district"

I laugh, mostly to fill the silence and try to get them speaking on last time "Are you two dating?"

The girl looks down at the fire and addresses it "We were."

I'm confused now – they looked like they were one the way to the arena: "What happened?"

The boy's face gives way to anger and his eyes narrow "I'll tell you what happened – Snow – what happened is the Districts rebelled and then – then they won and we were both reaped! Being sent into an arena to kill each other _tends_ to put a bit of strain on a relationship! Oh I don't know maybe we're just over-reacting! Who can say." The girl stops him and puts her hand on his arms again and they go in search of a new station, anywhere to get away from me; and I bend down, humiliated and try to try different ways of making a fire. Even the helper at the station wants to be away from me. Even from here I can see the couple from seven talking to Koen. I could fight or argue with them…but I won't of course.

Suddenly a girl from district three slides in next to me and smiles straight at me "If the trainer's ignoring you I can show you a good way of making fire"

The gratitude of a human being treating me nicely feels amazing and I grin right back "Go on then! I'm Aniceta"

"Adnat. A's stand for the beginning"

This young child is confusing me: "The beginning of what?"

"Nothing. If it's cold in the arena I can show you how to make fire from that"

"I'm listening"

And this twelve year old grasps some ice, polishes it in her hand and holds it up to the sunlight produced by District thirteen. The ice creates fire on the ground onto the tinder pile her hands have created and I shake my head in amazement.

"Adnat – how did you do that!"

The girl smiles up at me "I learnt. I suppose I created and experimented"

"Are you allowed to create?"

"District three encourage learning, experimentation and creation. Even in their sub-district."

"That's amazing"

"The fire or District three?" I stare bewildered at such a brave girl and then she breaks the silence "So what are you going to teach me in exchange?"

I smile and we walk over to the darts and find myself spending the day teaching her all my survival skills. It's not like I'd learn anything from this training anyway. All the tributes stare at me whilst I tie knots with her and whilst we learn everything together. At the end of the day she fixes me straight in the eyes again and says: "I'd like to be allies. Would you?"

"Adnat, I'd be honoured!" she unties her brown hair and hides her face in it, nods at me and walks off to stand with her District partner in the lift, who glances down at her then decides it's best not to ask what she's doing, so they ride the lift together in complete silence.

Koen moves silently over to me and we queue up to ride the lift up to our floor. District thirteen didn't have a floor in the original games and they are ushered, like royalty outside to their own quarters . The girl looks back once and the hate in her eyes is mistakable…I stare after her trying to work out why – and Koen has to prod me towards the lift and we ride up to our floor to watch Peeta and Yahweh argue over our strategy.

**What do you think? In case you didn't know, I like Adnat. I promise she's not a repeat of Rue, even if they seem a little similar. Hopefully only a little… Positive reviews make me happy, negative reviews make me happy because I can improve myself! No reviews makes me worried :/. Anyway so tell me what you think, and you can actually make fire out of ice. Apparently everyone knew that but me, oh well. **


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